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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24002290">Setting Out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey'>freddiejoey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Arthur of the Britons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:07:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>976</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24002290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn in the longhouse...…..</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Setting Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>- Setting Out </p><p> </p><p>Kai has lived in the longhouse for nine years now. Since they were small boys. Since he was nine and Arthur seven. And despite Kai’s fine flaxen curls and Arthur’s thick raven hair, the axe that rests beside Kai’s bed and the sword that flanks Arthur’s, and the fact that Kai often flaunts sheepskin attire while Arthur will only tolerate it as a bed covering – well, despite or maybe because of these very things – no brothers could be deemed closer. </p><p>They would die for each other – and kill. That much is certain and already been proven. In savage skirmishes and on a few slaughter-ridden battlefields. </p><p>They would also do the same for Llud. Their love and respect for their brave, curmudgeonly, silverhanded father is legendary - as is his staunch devotion to his two handsome warrior sons. </p><p>However, the other marked difference between Arthur and Kai – and the one that makes Arthur’s people smile fondly behind their hands – is the matter of sex and women. More precisely, that Kai has so much and so many and Arthur so far has sampled none of either. </p><p>Kai has been merrily hopping into the horse’s collar for four years. Again, probably more accurate to say that he’s blithely straddled a vast herd of eager, bright-eyed mares. </p><p>Arthur has yet to hop anywhere – and seems in no hurry to remedy the situation. </p><p>A stark contrast indeed. </p><p>Still, as brothers, there are no others bound more tightly together and their encampment is under steady, practical, sensible stewardship. </p><p>Arthur’s warning systems are already renowned for their defensive worth and his soldiers for their fiery courage. </p><p>Yes, the village is well served by the disparate occupants of its rambling, ramshackle longhouse. </p><p>This cockcrow the light above the lake has not yet faded from pearly grey to palest rose and Lenni has not yet stirred to come yawning and warm the porridge. (And warm her heart - which is raw from Ana’s recent passing - amid the brilliance of Kai’s sunrise smile.)</p><p>Only two bowls and her own needed today since Llud is away trampling on a silly feud between Dirk and Ambrose. One of those nonsensical grudges that sometimes make devious old Squint-eye and his pompous would-be-Roman neighbour lock horns. Of course, by the time Llud rides home again, both shifty chieftains will be thoroughly chastened and nicely quiescent – at least for a few months. </p><p>Inside the longhouse bedroom, within his cosy cocoon of fleeces and blankets, Arthur is dreaming. It’s a reassuring, hopeful dream and somehow it concerns Kai. Albeit odd little details about Kai. Odd little brotherly details………</p><p>Like how there’s a smattering of tawny freckles under his right arse cheek. Or how there’s a muscle just above Kai’s left elbow that’s perfectly ticklish – if Arthur chances upon it when they wrestle, his big brother will laugh and hoot till his face streams with tears of mirth. Or the way Kai’s brown eyes soften in the firelight when………</p><p>Suddenly Arthur is abruptly jostled from his blissful sleep – and finds himself blinking blearily up into that twinkling brown gaze. It’s Kai. Tousled and tumbled. Standing next to Arthur’s bed with his blonde hair and his blue tunic askew. </p><p>“What is it? What’s wrong Kai?” Arthur mumbles drowsily, still tangled in the last lovely tendrils of his dream. </p><p>“I need mulled honey milk.” Kai states it simply, as if it’s a common occurrence to crave his little brother’s brewing skills before dawn. </p><p>Quirking one corner of his mouth, Arthur gives a bemused smile and a lusty yawn. </p><p>“Kai, it’s not even sunrise yet. Anyway, Lenni will be here soon enough. She’s much better at that sort of thing than me. Last I looked I yielded a sword, not a hearth kettle.”</p><p>Seemingly unconvinced, Kai shuffles his stockinged feet among the rushes and tugs his lower lip between his teeth. </p><p>“It’s too early for Lenni and I can’t sleep. Besides, Llud’s not here to grump at us for rummaging about and you always coddle the milk exactly right. Mine gets that wrinkled yellow, crow’s foot skin…….”</p><p>Now he’s standing with one foot tilted on its toes and crossed behind his other long, slender leg and his hands are folded plaintively behind his back. Around him the fire’s shimmer glows like a gentle golden nimbus. </p><p>Arthur thinks that Kai looks so beautiful that angels may as well shred their wings and quietly surrender. </p><p>“I still don’t see why you can’t make it for yourself if you’re so anxious Kai. Crow’s feet and all. You’re aware of where Lenni keeps the milk pail and the honey jar as much as I am.” Slowly, Arthur steeples his knees and pulls himself up to lean his back against the black bull hide hanging at the head of his bed.</p><p>Even more slowly Kai lowers himself on to the spot where Arthur’s legs have just rested. </p><p>“I like it better when you do it little brother.” </p><p>Kai is peering straight into Arthur’s wide blue eyes and there’s an utterly fierce, utterly true, utterly tender intensity there that makes Arthur’s heart give a strange, brave, joyful tumble. </p><p>For several days Kai has known that he’s irredeemably in love. </p><p>Within a week Arthur will be sure too. </p><p>Then, for several years, they will flounder around, sharing everything, pursuing counsel about anything but the absolute perfection they’ve found in each other without even seeking. </p><p>But here's where they set out. </p><p>Together. </p><p>In the silvery dawn light, with tentative smiles and weak knees and wild courage and sweet disorder in their hearts. </p><p>It’s what will make all the other wondrous miracles of their lives possible………..</p><p>Arthur sighs with apparent resignation. Reaches forward to card his hand through Kai’s gossamer curls. Pushes aside the blankets. </p><p>“So, cinnamon through the honey big brother?” </p><p>His fingers brush warm rapture against Kai’s cheek.</p><p>Kai melts. </p><p>The journey begins.</p>
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